


Tombs and the Raiding Thereof

by professor



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Archaeology, Charles wears short shorts and does backflips and shit, M/M, Temple Sex, Tomb Raider AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 13:43:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/professor/pseuds/professor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles turns the tables on his rival Erik.  With sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tombs and the Raiding Thereof

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt on the kinkmeme: http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/5215.html?thread=6820703#t6820703
> 
> _Charles in short shorts doing acrobatic flips and shit in ancient temples for some super special artifact. I don't need a monster fic, I just need a snipplet of some Erik-as-his-rival-but-seriously-hot-love-interest-as-well stopping him and sexing him up in the temple._
> 
> _And removing them shorty shorts and exploiting Charles' flexibility to its fullest._

Charles judges the width of the chasm with a practiced eye. He backs up several feet, gets a good running start, and takes a flying leap across, executing a perfect front flip landing.

(His school fellows had mocked him, but those childhood gymnastics lessons had paid off in _spades_ over the years.)

Charles draws his twin pistols and treads slowly, carefully into the central chamber.

He sees the artifact, resting on a pedestal, on the dais right next to the altar.

Charles grins, preparing to grab the artifact and maybe do a little shimmy to celebrate his victory.

That is, of course, when his guns are yanked out of his hands.

Charles flings himself to the side almost too fast to see, but not quickly enough -- chains come flying at him, wrapping around him and pinning his arms to his sides before he can blink.

Well, shit.

"Hello, Charles." Erik of course, wearing that damnable helmet of his. He's modified it again -- Charles of course cannot read him when he wears it, but Charles has learned to recognize the particular flavor of "not here" that the helmet emits. Or at least, Charles _had_ , before the modifications.

Charles schools his face into an expression of bored disinterest. "Oh, is that you Erik? Fancy meeting you here." Charles is going to _murder_ Moira -- she'd sworn Erik was halfway around the world from here, currently.

Erik grins smugly, slowly circling Charles like a hawk eyeing its prey. "Mmmm, Charles. You look so fuckable, all chained up like that."

Charles tries and fails not to flush. Erik, if possible, grows even more smug at the sight.

Erik pauses directly in front of Charles and looms, using his greater height to good effect. "Yeah, I bet you'd like that. I'd bend you over that altar, slide those short shorts right off you, fuck you until you're sobbing and begging to come. And then I'd fuck you _harder_.

Tempting. But Charles has shit to do. He coolly assesses his options, and snaps a high kick right to the underside of Erik's chin.

Erik goes down like a ton of bricks.

*****

Erik regains consciousness to the sensation of being slapped across the face, none too gently.

"Ah, Erik," says Charles cheerfully. "How kind of you to join me."

Full wakefulness returns all in a rush, and Erik notes several things at once.

1\. His helmet is gone.

2\. He can't feel any metal.

3\. He's been tied to the altar with hempen ropes in a rather compromising position.

4\. Oh, and he's bare-ass naked.

Well, shit.

"Mmmm, Erik," says Charles, parroting his own words and tone back at him. "You look so fuckable, all tied up like that. On all fours with your ass in the air."

So far Charles is staying out of his line of sight, so Erik can only imagine the expression on his face. But if his voice is any indication, Charles probably has a huge, smug, shit-eating grin on his face right now.

Erik strains against his bonds, trying to find some give.

"Oh Erik, trying to leave so soon? But the fun's just getting started." Charles punctuates this with a slap to his ass, and Erik's breath hitches in his throat.

Still, a man has his pride. "Not interested. Untie me, _now_."

"But I don't want to." Another slap, and Erik struggles to maintain a stoic facade.

"Let me _go_ , Charles." Erik growls, his voice thick with anger. (At least he hopes it's thick with anger, and not arousal.)

"Well, if you insist." And Charles wanders back into his line of sight.

Stark naked.

A moan escapes Erik's traitorous throat.

Charles picks up his discarded short shorts, starts to slide them back on.

"What--What are you doing?" asks Erik breathlessly.

Charles bats his eyelashes at him -- and how is it fair that it looks so fucking sexy on him -- and says "Why Erik, you asked, no, _demanded_ to be set free. Were quite insistent about it, just a moment ago. So I'm going to get dressed, and take the artifact and get out of here. And when I've got a good head start, I'll stop blocking your metal-sense, and you can cut yourself free."

Charles pulls his shorts back up over his ass, and is about to zip them up --

"No!" blurts Erik desperately.

Charles pauses, looks at him with wide, innocent (ha!) blue eyes. "Erik?" There are a thousand questions contained in that single word.

Erik is so hard he's aching with it, his cock dripping precome all over the altar.

He licks his lips. "Please stay. Please -- " he swallows. "Please fuck me."

"Well, since you ask so nicely," and Charles does this obscene little shimmy with his hips and his shorts hit the ground again.

Erik moans appreciatively. Charles leaps up onto the altar in front of Erik, nimble as a cat. He kneels, and traces the outline of Erik's lips with his cock.

"Suck it. And do a good job."

Erik parts his lips obediently and takes Charles into his mouth. He savors the taste, the weight of Charles across his tongue.

It's intoxicating, listening to Charles moan and gasp as Erik sucks his cock, but all too soon Charles pulls out.

"Need to save some for the main event." And Charles places his hands on Erik's shoulder blades, pushes off, and must do some kind of complicated flip and turn because suddenly Charles is crouched behind him, slowly tracing Erik's ass crack with his cock.

Charles abruptly pulls away, and Erik whimpers.

Erik hears rummaging sounds behind him, and the sound of foil tearing.

"By the way, Erik, thank you so much for being so considerate as to have lube and condoms with you. What a fortunate coincidence." says Charles dryly.

Erik flushes with embarrassment. So maybe he'd had some plans. It wasn't a crime.

Erik opens his mouth to respond, but all that come out is a wanton moan when Charles slides a slick finger inside him.

"It really is a good thing you had lube with you," says Charles conversationally. "Otherwise I'd have had to fuck you dry. Or maybe I'd have stroked you off first, prepared you with your own come. Maybe. If I was feeling generous."

Erik hisses, and writhes in his bonds.

Charles chuckles darkly. "Oh yes, you like that." He adds another finger, slowly, carefully opening Erik up.

Erik whines impatiently, starts trying to fuck himself on Charles' fingers.

"None of that, now," says Charles sharply, giving him a smack to his ass for emphasis. Charles adds a third finger, and almost but not _quite_ brushes against Erik's prostate. Several times.

"Bastard!" Erik spits out. "You, _oh god_ , you, _fuck_ \-- "

"Tell me what you want, Erik."

"God, fuck me, just fuck me, _fuck me you bastard_ \-- "

And Erik nearly sobs with relief because finally, _finally_ , Charles removes his fingers and Erik can feel the head of Charles' cock teasing him, and then Charles pushes in, slowly, oh so slowly, inch by torturous inch.

And then he's in all the way, and Erik has only a moment to revel in how deliciously full he feels when Charles is pulling oh so slowly back out.

Erik's about to scream in frustration when Charles snaps his hips, thrusting back in all the way so quickly it's painful, painful but oh so delicious, and Charles drags his fingernails down Erik's back and oh god it's good.

Charles fucks him hard and fast. And Erik wants to come, but he can't touch himself, so he tilts his hips and oh, there, Charles thrusts are hitting him right in the perfect spot, and --

"No, Erik," says Charles, shifting the angle of his thrusts so that they are no longer hitting Erik in just the right spot. "Not until I'm ready. And I intend to make this last for _quite_ a while."

And so it goes on, and on, and on, Charles riding him to the brink again and again and again, using his telepathy to keep both himself and Erik from coming.

Erik is sobbing, begging for Charles to fuck him harder, begging to be allowed to come, promising Charles anything he wants if he'll just let him come, including his immortal soul and hand in marriage.

Until finally, _finally_ , Charles shudders and moans and comes deep inside Erik, and it feels so good, it should push him over, it _should_ , but it _doesn't_ \--

Charles leans down and whispers in his ear. "Come for me."

Erik screams and comes so hard he blacks out.

When he comes back to himself, Charles is gone, along with the artifact.

Erik feels the lube and come dripping out of his well-fucked ass, and thinks he's won the greater prize.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [On Hearts and the Finding of Lost Treasures (The Tombs and the Raiding Thereof Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2120496) by [luninosity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luninosity/pseuds/luninosity)




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